The Mickey & Katie Story

It had become something of a routine, the thing I most looked forward to every morning, a gift that kept on giving. I would wait until the front door clicked shut, before excitedly rushing from my bed like a c***d on Christmas Day.

But this was not the kind of present that Santa would leave for a c***d. No, this was strictly for adults. And more importantly, she had left the present just for me, or so I liked to think.

Sometimes, she made work me work hard for it. Her gift not always left in plain sight, leading me on some kind of treasure hunt, searching high and low for my prize. But I was never disappointed. I always found that trinket of her secret affection for me, and she had always made it worth my while.

Somedays I had to wait longer than others, and this morning was one of those days. But the waiting only ever made the reward even greater, extra spice added to the gift to compensate me for my unrelenting patience. I always knew when a special treat was in store. Her morning routine was different on those days.

First would be the sound of her alarm going off. Several times it would try to arouse her from her sl**p over the course of an hour, an audible sigh between each press of the snooze button. Even though she is in another room, my ears are erect to every sound she makes, and I picture her wriggling around impatiently like a moody teenager, desperate for just five more minutes of sl**p before she starts her day. Eventually, she gives in to the alarm's call, and I picture her stretching her arms above her head, her whole body pulled tightly as she releases a dramatic yawn. I can not see her, but I can imagine the sight. Her tiny nylon nightie creeping up her body as she stretches, revealing the prize she will be presenting me with any moment now.

She has worn them all day the day before. A tireless day at work in a local kitchen. The heat of the ovens causing her to sweat as she speeds around the restaurant following Chef's orders. The perfect, but unknowing accomplice, he works her hard all day, every day. She is so exhausted when she arrives home so late. All she wants to do is to shed her grease-stained clothes. But a shower would take too much energy, and a bath would only cause her to fall asl**p. No, all she can do is give in to the exhaustion, and she removes all except the prize, pulling her nightie over her head to cover her undoubtedly delicious breasts, and jumping into bed.

She has slept in them all night too, though her sl**p is rarely uninterrupted. She tosses and turns, constantly flitting between too hot and too cold. Sweating constantly. She is up out of bed every few hours. She still remembers when she used to wet the bed, and she has to relieve herself constantly in fear that she could still be that girl. That dirty, smelly girl that was so teased whilst still a teenager. It is no wonder that she needs more sl**p each morning, and is so exhausted every night. But it was all part of a masterplan, and such were the sacrifices she seemed so willing to make to present me with her ultimate prize.

Her yawning over with, I hear the creaking of her door, as she steps into the day. She passes by my bedroom door, as I pretend to still be sl**ping. I see her look through to check the coast is clear, spying her with my eyelids just slightly open, her nightie sticking against her sweat-covered skin. She turns away from me, presenting her perfectly rounded ass as she prepares to descend the creaking staircase.

I stay in my hiding place, listening for further signals of what today has in store. First, there is the precious sound of golden liquid trickling from her well-lubed cunt. Next, the sound of crockery banging against one another, kettles boiling, and tea being sipped, as she prepares herself breakfast.

Then comes the interesting part. Will I soon be hearing the sound of hot running water ravishing her naked body, as she soaps herself clean from 24 hours of physical exertion? Or will this be the morning when I get something extra special, when the showering is intentionally delayed to ensure my gift is even more special? If I hear her returning up the stairs, before the torrent of water has been unleashed, I will have my answer.

Sure enough, this morning is going to be a special one. Having finished her breakfast, she has chosen to return to her room, again passing by the crack in my door, this time giving me a fabulous view of her nipples erect from the cold of the kitchen and pushing against the fabric of her nightie, demanding to be set free. She returns to her room, and leaving my prize in my place, discards the nightie, pulling it loose from her hot sticky skin that seems reluctant to let it go. Without skipping a beat, she pulls on her sports bra, a vest top and jogging bottoms. She grabs her pink and white trainers, and sings as she as bounces past me again, down the stairs and off to the gym.

Had this not been the case this morning, the sound of the front door slamming shut would have been enough for me to be bounding quickly down the stairs after her, desperately searching through the laundry basket for the gift she had left me. Today though, I would have to wait a little while longer, but I was not dismayed. She had gone to the gym to perfect her gift to me. When she returns, my normal routine will be able to resume and I would be even more grateful for it.

She was gone for about an hour as is usually the case. The door swinging open beneath me allowing her scent to rush up the stairs announcing her return. Sitting up in bed, I could see her. Her dark brown hair tied up on top of her head, glistening with sweat. Her face beaming with warmth, her vest top almost see-through with fluids, rendering her sports bra visible beneath.

She sings always. Her voice as good as any popstar, happiness exuding from every open pore.

"Don't I just?" I think to myself as she jiggles down the corridor, her breasts bouncing and her ass quaking.

I imagine what she has been up to at the gym. Her damp crotch sliding against her already pungent knickers as she squats and thrusts. My cock is so hard by this point. The moment is so near already.

The shower head is now shooting rapid bursts of hot water all over her naked body, as she continues to sing. I can visualise her in there, soapy fingers roaming all over her breasts, dripping through the curls of dark brown that frame her mouth-watering cunt. She is giving herself a magnificent show, spanking her own ass as she looks over her shoulder into the mirror, winking at herself, oozing sex.

Like any young woman of 19, she does not care about leaving the place in a mess. Her clothes are regularly left strewn over the bathroom floor as she dances over them and heads back upstairs to change. Other times, they are hastily bundled together and thrown into the laundry basket. Or maybe she will hide them some other place today to keep me on my toes.

I need her to be fast now. Every moment the prize sits unclaimed, it's quality is reduced in value. If there had been a way to get to them as soon as they were removed from her perspiring body without raising suspicion, I would be there. But for now, I must wait with baited breath.

She sings now still, as I hear the rush of hot air being powered against her flowing locks. Again I can picture her, a devilish grin on her face as she looks into my eyes, knowing how hard I am, but still forcing me to wait for her blissful treasure.

Finally, she exits her bedroom for the last time. Again I spy the magnificent sight of her luscious body as she passes by my room. Her tight white blouse and short black skirt hiding another instalment of her endless supply of gifts. But that was for tomorrow. For now, I just needed to hear that click of the door, and I would be set for the rest of the morning.

"Can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my, poker face, poker face" she sings as she heads out of the door.

"Can't wait to, can't wait to, no I can't wait to, fuck your face, fuck your face more like" I sing in my head, as I jump to my feet, and rush down the stairs naked, my cock leading the way.

It is at this point the games begin. I have to find the prize she has left for me as quickly as possible. I barge into the bathroom, still hot and steamy from the show she has provided to the lotions and potions gathered on the windowsill. With no sign of her discarded garments here, I rush back to the hallway, and raise the lid of the laundry basket. The scent of sweat awakens my senses immediately as I seize the damp sports bra and pull it up to my waiting nostrils.

But that isn't the top prize in this raffle. And I continue my hunt, pulling more and more clothes out from the basket. Only one thing is missing, and frustrated I concede that she must have taken them upstairs to her bedroom.

This was happening more and more regularly of late, and it didn't really make much sense. Why would Katie place all her dirty clothes in the laundry basket, except her soaked knickers? Regardless, I was undeterred, and my swollen cock pulled me onwards up the stairs and into her room.

There, laid out alluringly on the freshly-made bed was the prize I so hungered for.

Immediately, I grasped them, and turning them inside out, held the damp, yet still warm crotch to my anxious nose. I could only groan, "oh fuck yes", as I inhaled her perfume, my cock twitching and aching to be touched.

I knew it was wrong to be doing what I was about to do. Hell, after all, these were my s****r-in-law's knickers. Imagine what would happen if my wife, Saffron, caught me.

It had been going on for 6 months now, since Saffron's little s****r first moved in with us, after she dropped out of university. Saffron was always so disappointed with Katie. She was not the sensible, career-minded young woman that she had been, and she didn't understand why. Katie had always done better at everything than Saffron, getting better results at school, getting major parts in school plays and winning talent competitions. The thing was Katie made it look so effortless too, she just seemed to turn up and success would come to her. Saffron really had to work at it, so I guess she felt Katie was wasting her talents, and maybe she was even a little bit jealous.

I had met Katie a few times before Saffron landed me with the news that her turbulent baby s****r was coming to stay. She was so apologetic, knowing the whirlwind that would follow Katie into our home. She needn't have apologised. I already had a soft spot for Katie, and her care-free attitude to life, not to mention that she was completely gorgeous in every way. Of course, I acted the hard-done-by husband, having to put up with the wife's crazy f****y coming to stay – that was the role she was expecting me to play after all.

When Katie wasn't working, she was either prancing around the house wearing next to nothing, singing, out getting absolutely trashed on vodka redbulls, staggering in d***k singing or sl**ping. She left a trail of disaster all over the house constantly, refusing to do any housework or clean up after herself, thoroughly pissing Saffron off, but amusing me no end. She would regularly walk around the house in just a towel, and when I wasn't hunting down her knickers, I was trying to think up ways either for her to catch me naked, or for me to catch her.

She didn't look after her body the way my wife did. My wife was always so pristine, clean and elegant. Katie, on the other hand, didn't care. A fuzzy patch of hair regularly adorned her armpits, and I had once glimpsed a treasure trail of light brown reaching up from beneath her jogging pants and up to her navel. But it didn't matter, a girl like her was just so hot, all of the time. Her eyes sculpted like a true temptress, always begging to get laid. She needed no make up or fancy clothes. Her beauty was such that she was never short of attention, something else for Saffron to be jealous about.

She had the dirtiest mouth I had ever heard on a girl. Always on the phone with someone, uttering "fucks", and "shits" and "cunts". Saffron was always telling her to mind her language, taking on the role of mother, but that only made Katie be more vulgar. She didn't care. And she was always flurting with me. Saffron knew it too, but we both assumed it was just another way of Katie trying to get under her skin, like she always did. Of course, I liked to fantasise that is was more than that. That in reality she had actually moved in with us as part of a well laid plan to steal me away from her s****r. After all in many ways she had sculpted herself more and more into the image of my perverted desires.

I actually enjoyed having Katie here. Even if she was beginning to make me doubt my feelings for my wife. She just seemed so old when Katie was around, so devoid of fun and of life. Was this where my future was headed?

And so it was I found myself sniffing Katie's dirty knickers once again.

Every morning it was the same. My wife would go out to work, followed shortly after by Katie, and then I would spend the morning enjoying myself, embracing my s****r-in-law's intoxicating odour, as I stroked my cock to a powerful orgasm. Being a writer and not having to conform to the 9 to 5 rat race certainly had it's perks.

Before I long I was spread eagled on Katie's bed, strangling my cock with one hand as the other pressed her unmistakable flavour to my face. Her cunt smelt so good. I wondered one day if I might do this for real, her ass hole pressing against my nose as I probed her dripping vulva with my eager tongue.

With no one in the house, I was free to make as much noise as I liked, uttering obscenities about my sexy s****r-in-law and her exquisite ass.

"Oh fuck Katie, you are such are fucking filthy whore!" I uttered, as I felt my balls tighten.

Today, they were baby pink cotton knickers, the crotch of which slightly stained and moist. The aroma was so unbelievably rich, the scent of her wet hairy cunt and sweaty asshole shaken and stirred to provide me with the nose candy I so craved.

"Oh god, I love your fucking dirty ass!" I shouted.

"I want to lick your tight little asshole, Katie"

"Oh Katie, fuck. I am gonna stick my dick deep in your ass, and then make you suck it clean. Mmmmm"

Every time I uttered words like this, it just made me so hot. The thought that someone would hear, making me shiver slightly as I did so, the danger intoxicating.

"Shit. I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your fucking face you slut."

It wasn't on her face. But it was the next best thing, as I held her pink panties like a cup, allowing my sticky white cum to invade them, mixing with the juices she had deposited there for me.

It is at this point I feel guilty. Scared of being caught. I could decide to bury the evidence at the bottom of the laundry basket. She's so messy that she will never know, and by the time she gets to them, they will be dry. With any luck she would just toss them in the washing machine in a big pile and not even notice, the dried white powder coating them. Part of me though wants her to find them still wet and sticky, knowing I have cum in them, but I bury them as planned, and turn my attention to the more mundane things in life.

This was pretty much the only action I was getting right now. Saffron and I had long since stopped having any sort of sex life. She just wasn't a very sexual person, unlike her s****r. Saffron didn't even think about sex most of the time she had told me. She never masturbated, and had only a few partners before me. She seemed to enjoy it when she eventually did allow me to have my way with her, but it was becoming more and more rare.

She had a variety of excuses for why "we can't tonight", and the arrival of Katie in our home was yet another of these. She couldn't possibly have sex whilst her s****r was in the house. Or even if Katie was out somewhere, the risk of her coming back was too high it seemed. The usual headaches, time of the month, too tired and not in the mood excuses abounded the rest of the time, and to be honest after 9 months of enf***ed celibacy, I had stopped even trying.

Instead, I spent most of my time fantasising about her s****r, engaging in this daily ritual of panty-sniffing and masturbation as I imagined all the things I would do to her.

Other times, I would deliberately allow Katie to accidentally see me naked. Leaving our bedroom door open, and pretending to be sl**ping naked on top of the duvet, she would get a perfect view of my hard, even if somewhat small dick.

I had always known I was small. I had even measured it to verify that fact. It was 3 and a half inches at it's peak, pulsating and begging to be stroked. Well below average. That had nothing to do with Saffron's aversion to sex. She just was into sex full stop. But I guess it didn't help.

Even before Katie's arrival in our home, I had found ways of sating my appetite for sex without Saffron. The internet had become my fuck buddy then, allowing me to experiment with desire and kink. I had found a particular interest in something called 'Small Penis Humiliation', grasping my little dick with thumb and finger, and beaming my inadequacies out onto the world wide web through a webcam. I loved the feeling of being abused by strangers, laughing about my lack of length and girth, as they watched me stroke myself to orgasm. I loved being given instructions to follow and orders to obey, dressing in Saffron's lingerie and being called a sissy. I loved the feeling of lust that built inside me as they unveiled the supposed truth about Saffron's affairs, fucking everything that moves, having every hole filled with huge cocks, as she complained about her pathetic husband.

I still loved this part of my life too, but more recently my attention had shifted to Katie, and her pungent panties. Knowing too that Saffron would never understand my kinky desires to be humiliated or cuckolded, it was Katie who became the main protagonist in my naughty dreams.

That is why I wanted her to see me naked. To see how tiny my dick was. Just the thought of her seeing it was hot, but now that I knew she had seen it, I wanted a reaction. I wanted her to see it, and exclaim something like "oh my god, that is the tiniest dick I have seen in my entire life!" To hear her utter those words I thought, would be heavenly. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from cumming on the spot surely.

The closest I got was Saffron telling me that I need to stop sl**ping naked or leaving the door open, because Katie got "an eyeful last night, and no one wants to see that". That was enough to give me something else to wank myself off to of course, but it still wasn't the holy grail of humiliation I so desired.

The thing is I guess I was too worried to go any further than this. I mean if I really wanted this reaction, I could deliberately flash her in a way that left no doubt that this was intentional. But I couldn't commit to that. It had to seem accidental or I would be in big trouble.

Being such a heavy drinker, Katie also tempted me in another way. With Saffron fast asl**p upstairs, Katie would often stumble through the front door, bouncing from wall to wall, but still looking as delicious as ever. She always drank to excess, and could never seem to remember anything the next morning, which only served to prompt fantasies of me taking advantage of her. She gives me a real show, struggling to take her high-heeled shoes off and giving me an amazing view right up her skirt to the knickers I know I will be sniffing on the next morning. She falls asl**p on the couch, completely dead to the world, and I know I could do absolutely anything to her there if I wanted.